Criminal
by Catalina Royce
Summary: She wanted to pay him back, to make him hurt the same way she did. And so begins a game of revenge, of seduction, of lust, of pride and of love. Chapter Three Up!
1. Criminal

**Title:** Criminal  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** R

**Criminal**

"I hate him," Ginny seethed. She and Luna were storming down the corridor on the way to the combined Ravenclaw-Gryfffindor Muggle Studies class. Rather, Ginny was storming. Luna was simply trying to keep up with the rampaging redhead.

Currently, the fire-tempered sixth year was incensed over her brother's enemy number one; Draco Malfoy. Luna hadn't been paying attention to the exchange - she'd been busily immersed in the _Quibblers_ latest issue, dealing with the _intriguing_ similarities between Merlin and Elvis - but from Ginny's rantings, it seemed that Malfoy had once again delivered a ridiculous insult about Ron's (and by association, Ginny's) pedigree. When Ron had replied, furious, Malfoy'd taken points away for 'disrespecting a Prefect'.

Never mind that Ron, too, was a Prefect. Before he'd had a chance to react, however, Snape had miraculously appeared, ushering them all off to class.

And thus, Luna was rushing to Muggle Studies with the youngest of the Weasley brood, listening sympathetically to Ginny rant about 'that git' and fantasise over beating him, once and for all.

It wasn't until about half way through Muggle Studies that Luna realised that Ginny, rather than being the lively participant she usually was, seemed to be rather entranced by the piece of parchment in front of her. In and of itself, it wasn't exactly _odd_.

What _was_ odd, however, even for the radish-earringed blonde, was that the parchment was blank. Ginny ignored the puzzled expression on her friend's face and contemplated the absolute joy she'd feel if she ever did beat Malfoy - in a way that crushed his pride, ruined his spirit and forever broke the blonde into humility.

There had to be a way.

Ginny had spent years of watching her brother receive endless insults and conjectures that their parents were some form of animals. It'd certainly be amusing to turn the tables on him and turn his parents into a goat - but that idea was so quick, so painless, so easily fixed.

What was it that he was _most_ proud of? Most protective of?

_...His Malfoy pride. _

The incident in her third year when Draco had been turned into a ferret had struck him hard and deep. But she couldn't replicate that sort of magical attack; she'd be given a month's worth of detention or worse.

No, it had to be subversive. She had to do something that she couldn't get into trouble for, that wasn't actually _against the rules._

So what could she do to him that wasn't going to land her in unnecessary trouble?

_Relationships._ There was no way that Dumbledore or anyone else could get angry with her for being in a relationship with Malfoy, for hurting him in that relationship.

It would put her in the position of being able to break him, humiliate him in front of the school, and get away with it. For once and all, Malfoy would leave her family alone.

Ginny grinned and Luna's eyes widened in fear. The only reason Ginny ever looked like that was when she was planning a particularly wicked revenge on her brothers. She pitied Ron -- the only brother left at the school, and therefore the only target. Luna leant over to the other girl. "What are you going to do to the poor boy?"

Ginny's expression immediately became innocent. "Why, nothing. I would never break the rules." Luna looked - understandably - dubious, but said nothing.

The redhead grinned again. She was going to make Draco Malfoy fall in love with her, and then she would break his heart.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Well, this is the first chapter of my new story, Criminal. Just a note; this fic is **HPB-Non-Compliant**, as are all my fics, unless stated otherwise. I hope you enjoy my story, and I would love it if you'd review, either on here or on Quiescence -- you can find the address in my bio. 


	2. A Beginning

**Title:** Criminal  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** PG-M ish.

**A Beginning**

The chance to begin the game came several weeks later. During this time, Ginny had been subtly watching Malfoy in order to attempt to figure out his biggest weakness. While her brothers had been the mischievous ones, the trouble makers, Ginny had become somewhat of an expert at dissembling. She loved life, loved people and being with them – but at the same time, she noticed things more than other people. She'd used this talent of hers before now, for more altruistic reasons. Now she was putting everything she had to use on this quest for revenge.

She'd thought it all through, had weighed both the pros and the cons – after she'd made up her mind during that Muggle Studies class, of course. She understood that she could get into trouble with Ron over this. She also knew she'd need to be careful around Malfoy. She knew it would be hard to put up with him long enough for him to think he was in love – something she highly doubted that was actually possible of him. She was sure, however, that she could control her loathing enough to lure him in. And the repression of her hatred would only make it so much sweeter when it burst out of her at the end of the game.

She smiled. She'd been watching Malfoy for a while now, and she'd quickly noticed he had an affinity for neatness, favoured classically elegant clothes rather than fashionable ones, and he had a sweet tooth. His favourite dessert seemed to be chocolate pudding.

There had been a couple of moments in the past weeks where Ginny had been slightly intimidated by her task. By her target. There had been times when he seemed so aloof and ominous that she'd considered backing out. But her discoveries about his preferences had brought back the fact that he was just a person; her fears were allayed.

Draco Malfoy was hers. At least, until she discarded him.

Now, how to begin the game? It had to be attention grabbing, had to make him think about her, but not to forward or –

His eyes caught hers. She'd been staring at him, absently, as she had been for weeks. For the first time he was staring back. _No,_ she thought. _This wasn't right._ It was too soon, it was too revealing, it was –

A beginning.

His eyes were grey. That explained his affinity for grey and charcoal coloured clothes. Ginny let her eyelashes hide her eyes slightly, raising one eyebrow as if he had initiated the contact.

His eyes swept over her in a slow, thorough inspection. His eyes wondered over her mouth, over her neck, her shoulders – as far down as the table would allow – and then back up. He met her eyes again. Without any expression, any acknowledgement or challenge, he turned away.

Ginny smiled to herself.

The game had begun.

**

.

**

Ginny spent the next few days attempting to take that exchange of glances a step further. On the Tuesday she looked for any chance to talk to him or even to snark. On Wednesday, she almost got a chance to speak to him; she was walking towards him in a deserted corridor, opened her mouth – and Pansy appeared next to him. On the Thursday he was flanked constantly by Crabbe and Goyle. On the Friday, she was seething with frustrated energy. She'd wanted to get further than this by now; had wanted to arrange a secret meeting with him at Hogsmeade this weekend. It was the first Hogsmeade of the year; an event she always looked forward to as a taste of freedom. Though she loved Hogwarts and her lessons, the rules and regulations sometimes got to her. She'd been willing to give that up to be with Malfoy, loathsome as he was – and now she wouldn't be able to, she was oddly disappointed.

Ginny woke early Saturday morning and dressed quickly in jeans and a warm, bulky-knit green jumper. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and went down to the common room, bringing her Potions book with her – Snape had required them to write a two foot essay on the dangers of sleeping draughts and the measures taken to stop them, to be handed in on Monday. Personally, Ginny was not especially fond of Potions, however, she seemed to do okay in it. Her favourite subjects were transfigurations and charms – to her, they seemed more like the enchanting world she'd imagined when she'd watched brother after brother go off to the magic school.

The common room was a bustling hub of activity, even at this time of the morning. Groups of sixth and seventh years were bunched together over tables and hunched over parchment. Some looked slightly the worse for wear – Hermione and Neville wore crumpled clothes that indicated they hadn't gone to bed at all, and Ginny bit back a comment that they should go and join the Ravenclaws. Ron and Harry were conspicuous in their absences – no doubt still in bed. She doubted the pair had even been up this early – saving the world excepted.

The students would leave until around 10. The track to Hogsmeade was along low plains and fields; when it rained it meant that students needed to trek through mud – unless one of the teachers cast spells on their clothes and shoes to repel it. Today, however, seemed to be a lovely day, if a bit windy.

It was 9 before Ginny put down her quill and looked up. Hermione's voice carried to her from the portrait hole. "Are you coming to breakfast, Ginny?" Hermione looked especially pretty today, now that she was out of the crumpled clothes; she was wearing a maroon sweater that complimented her complexion, her eyes were sparkling with excitement and she had a small smile on her face. She was flanked on either side by Harry and Ron who had somehow dragged themselves out of bed, although quite recently, by the looks of things: Harry's hair was messier than usual (if that was possible), and Ron's clothes were obviously pulled on with no regard as to how neat they were.

Ginny accompanied them down to the Great Hall, chatting and laughing with them. She sat with her back to the wall, observing the hall while still participating in the discussion with the trio. She helped herself to some breakfast, eyes slowly canning the room. Her eyes passed Ernie McMillan talking in depth with Hannah Abbot, past Zacharias Smith, and straight into the gaze of –

-- she sat in electrified silence as she realised he'd been watching her. Those stormy grey eyes held hers for a long minute, and it seemed to her that the surrounding noise faded away. She felt heavy, aware and dulled all at the same time. Their gazes locked for a minute more, then he smiled slightly and looked away.

Ginny and the trio left for Hogsmeade just after 10, as predicted. Ron and Hermione had found something to bicker over as usual. Harry, looking slightly awkward, walking alongside the pair, hands in his pockets and head down. Ginny realised how far Harry went to avoid attention; if it weren't for the scar, he'd be nothing more than a face in the crowd. Quite a good-looking face, but nothing more. She felt a flash of pity for the boy she'd been taught to worship since a young age. "So, Harry, who do you expect to win the Kingdom Cup?" she asked, referring to the Quidditch League within Britain and Ireland. Immediately, Harry launched into a long and complex analysis of each team in the league and their current chances of winning. When he mentioned that he favoured the Kenmare Kestrels, even though the Montrose Magpies were currently favourites – Ron snapped to attention. "Kenmare?" he scoffed. "Kenmare's offence is centred on Caleb Fortune, and he's been terrible lately."

"But their defence has steadily improved all season. This match will be the decider for them. They'll really get to show their mettle against Windborne."

And thus began the great debate. Hermione smiled wryly at the boys, just a touch of affection tinging her expression.

They reached Hogsmeade in good time, and the boys declared a truce at Hermione's "Oh, for goodness' sake!" burst of exasperation. Hogsmeade was lovely; the burst of Autumn weather was reflected among the quaint little village, gold and brown adorned the trees, people huddled in their warm clothes against the cold breeze, and streams of smoke puffed out the chimneys of houses in short bursts. Lots of people had chosen to come today – Ginny waved at Neville (who had dark rings under his eyes), Dean and Seamus, then at Luna, who was standing interestedly outside a news stand.

It was when the group stopped to look at Honeydukes' that Ginny realised they were being followed, very subtly, by Draco Malfoy and his friends. It wasn't that they attempted to hide, but every time her group paused to look at something, so did his, just a little further away. Or they'd continue on, and stop at a store ahead of the trio, staying there until they passed. This continued for some time, until Ginny suggested that the head into the Three Broomsticks, for a seat and a drink.

Ginny was frantic. What if she'd been reading the signals incorrectly? An angry Malfoy was not someone she wanted to mess with, especially when he was escorted by those two lumps. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps she was just deluding herself. She had a very active imagination, and no doubt it was running away with her. If Malfoy didn't walk in within three minutes, then she was obviously –

-- Draco Malfoy walked in. He and his cronies immediately gravitated towards a corner. He sat with his back to the wall, the dim light casting shadows over his face. His expression was totally guarded; an ominous, forbidding face.

It didn't help that there were two, very large, men on either side of him, their arms folded across their chest and their expressions downright menacing. They eyes locked for the second time that day, but this time there was more; a message. He quirked an eyebrow at her, and his head tipped back slightly. It was an imperious demand for her to meet him. She should refuse. Instead, she gave the tiniest of nods and turned back to her friends. She saw him leave from the corner of her eye moments later. With an excuse along the lines of looking at the price of an owl home to send her Christmas presents, Ginny extracted herself. He was waiting just down the street for her. When he saw her, he gave her a significant look and walked away.

She followed him for a distance, stopping every now and then to look in a display window. Stores already had their Christmas decorations and present ideas up, brightly lit windows filled with singing owls and hovering mistletoe ("Choose who you'll find under the mistletoe!") She saw him enter an alleyway and walked past it, staring at a shop window filled with kitchen appliances as if it was the most entrancing thing in the world. Moments later, with a casual glance at her surroundings, she slipped into the dark side street. He was standing in the shadows, his hands in his pockets. He seemed so ominous, standing there. Arrogance was bred into him, as natural to him as breathing. She paused. She must never underestimate her adversary.

"So tell me. What's a girl like you doing making eyes at me?"

"I was doing no such thing, Malfoy."

His grin was mocking. "Surely I'm more than Malfoy to you, what with that hot little look in your eyes every time you look at me."

"I do not have a 'hot' look in my eyes," she replied stiffly. "How dare you insinuate such a thing?" Inside, she was giddy with happiness. Her moves had been well noted by her opponent. That was a good thing.

He stepped closed to her. "I didn't insinuate, princess, I stated explicitly."

She turned to leave, but his hand covered her arm and stopped her in her tracks. "Let go of me." She could barely believe this prim and proper voice was coming from her. Ginny had to keep him chasing her, keep him thinking it was his choice.

He turned her around, grabbed her by the shoulders. "Listen to me, Miss Weasley. Don't turn that prissy attitude on me. I am a Malfoy, I am better than you and your dirt-poor family, and even touching you right now degrades me." She stared up at him, the passion of hatred naked in her eyes. She was better than his family; she had ethics, and morals, something could never have.

He stared into her eyes for a second longer, then pulled her close to him.

The kiss was explosive. His arms were still around her, urging her closer, and she felt her hands slide over his chest. One level of her, the small part that was able to stay sane, was telling her to take control and turn the kiss around so it was him, not her, than would give way. She kissed him back, using everything stored up inside her in order to draw him out. This was a game of wits and wills, and she was not going to lose.

They pulled away slowly, reluctantly. Ginny tried to feel triumphant that she'd pushed and gained ground; instead she was disappointed that they were no longer touching each other.

She smirked at him to cover the confusion that caused. "Feel degraded?"

He stared at her for a minute, then turned away from her. He was silent for so long, especially when he comment had been so easy to insult. Finally, he spoke. His voice was solemn. "You should leave. Neither of us can afford to be seen associating with each other."

Since keeping silent about the game was in her own interests (why would she want someone like Ron knowing she was going to seduce Draco Malfoy?), she didn't argue the point. What surprised her, however, was that he'd thought about her and her reputation at all. She thought about her opponent, who was growing more worthy by the minute; about the boy with a sweet tooth, the same person as that man who was so ominous just minutes ago. He intrigued her. Without thinking, she commented on it. "Who are you, Draco Malfoy?"

He didn't face her. "Nothing but myself."

She liked that answer. "You are what you are." Just as she was. "I have to go." He nodded, back still to her.

Ginny hurried down the alleyway. "Ginny," he called. She paused to listen. "Neither of us can afford to be _seen_." She understood the message. With a smile, she left the alley and rejoined the others.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed it. Please don't forget to review -- I greatly appreciate it! Since I'm finishing school, the next chapter may be a while, but it will come. Also, my website contains this story, and it gets updated more -- it also has lyrics for each chapter, which the ffdotnet rules ban. 


	3. Electric

**Title:** Criminal  
**Author:** Catalina Royce  
**Disclaimer:** These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Rating:** PG - Mish.

**Electric**

The note had been delivered quite early in the day; Ginny had just woken up when a school owl started tapping insistently on the dorm room window. The other girls in the dorm crowded around and took the note off the owl's outstretched leg. An excited silence descended, followed by a disappointed murmur. Ginny, who had just finished dressing, walked over. "What does it say?"

It was with a sigh that her roommate replied. "The next Hogsmeade weekend has been set back a week until the 24th at the request of some teachers, in order for further preparation and concentration on assessment tasks."

"What?" Ginny asked furiously. "This is Snape's doing, you mark my words. Let me see that. We'll fight it all the way to the Headmaster if we have to."

She snatched the paper from her roommate to see the note for herself. As she watched, however, the official note transformed. Some of the letters faded, others changed and still more appeared. The note rearranged itself to something entirely different.

The handwritten note had no signature, nor – with a masculine script like his – did it need it. Ginny was silent for a moment, then said "Oh, well, I suppose it's their decision and it's no doubt final. We don't like it but we'll have to accept it."

The girls stared at her. "What happened to 'we'll fight it all the way to the Headmaster if we have to'?"

She blushed and shrugged awkwardly. "Nothing, just…let's go, shall we?"

They must think she was mental, but since they were used to the Weasleys by now, they just shrugged and kept getting ready.

The hours until seven dragged by. She must have filled her time with something, but when she tried to remember exactly what is was that she'd done, she drew a total blank. Vaguely, she could recall talking to Hermione and laughing with Ron. She was pretty sure she'd done some kind of work, but when she thought about _what_, nothing came to mind.

She was caught in an agony of suspense. Their confrontation the day before had been, well, frightening and revealing in its intensity. When she had kissed him; there'd been no thought of revenge there. Merlin help her, all she'd thought about was how much she wanted to keep kissing him.

She had to stop it. So he was a good kisser. A really good kisser. Just because he knew exactly how to kiss her to draw the most reaction didn't mean she would spend all her time thinking about his lips on hers, the way his hands had gripped her arms, the way his chest had felt under her hands… No, she wouldn't waste her time. She would not lose sight of her goal. He was an arrogant prat, a bastard, a little shit, and it was time he got his comeuppance.

With that in mind, she set off to the Quidditch pitch at exactly ten past seven. It wouldn't do for him to think that she was _eager_ or anything.

He was standing alone when she first caught glimpse of him. His hair was silver in the moonlight, though she knew that by day there would always be that faint tinge of blonde. His skin was pale and almost ethereal, which caught her off guard and made her almost wary. She didn't want him to look otherworldly or angelic. She wanted him to look exactly like he was – a twerp.

"You know Weasley," he remarked as she approached. "I'm not sure your parents would be too happy to hear about you meeting strange boys in deserted places."

She raised an eyebrow as she strolled over, ever so nonchalantly. "I'm not sure that your parents would be too happy to hear about your secret meetings with girls who are actually, you know…_decent_," she retorted, "but then, it's quite hard to get in contact with prisoners, I've heard."

He gave no outward reaction. She ignored, again, how utterly handsome he looked in this light. Generally, blondes were not her type at all. They were far too open and readable, with far too little depth and too much of the 'good boy' feeling emanating from them. Draco, on the other hand, was different. His expressions were carefully guarded, and there was an air of mystery around him that she found irresistibly attractive. He was one of those boys who had a brooding, smouldering thing about them – now _that_ was the kind of guy she was attracted to. Harry had it; Tom Riddle had had it, even Michael had it, to some extent.

She definitely enjoyed a good mystery.

And while Malfoy was a terrible person and she was going to enjoy crushing him, it came as a relief that she would be able to stomach the necessary physical side of the plan. Not that she would sleep with him just to further her plan, oh no, but she would most definitely encourage any physical attraction he held towards her. Everyone knew that the way to a man's heart was through, not his stomach, but the thing that occupied his mind much, much more.

"So what did you invite me down here for, Malfoy?"

"Mostly to see if you'd come," he replied. "Tell me, Weasley, how does it feel to know that you've put yourself at my beck and call?"

"One meeting is not at your beck and call, Malfoy, although I'd suppose that you'd know all about that, right? Tell me, when the Dark Lord summons, how much does your arm burn?" She grinned as she asked the question, pleased with her performance in this game so far. Parry. Thrust.

She hadn't considered his reaction to her statement.

An unbecoming mauve hue stained his cheeks, his jaw clenched and his eyes turned cold. "How dare you speak to me like that?" His hands grasped her upper arms like a painful vice. "You make assumptions that you know nothing about," he clipped out through clenched teeth. "My family could _burn_ yours, and yet here you are, standing here, _daring_ me to hurt you. You are full of asinine bravado, Weasley."

Despite the fear in her chest and the pain in her arms, she grinned. "But that's what you like about me, Malfoy."

His face, as it descended towards hers, was full of annoyance. His lips, however, were soft and she could feel herself melting again. The night had grown chilly; the kiss was anything but. His hands were in her hair, pulling her closer, engulfing her. Her arms wrapped around his neck once more trying to get closer to him. They were so close that she felt as if she couldn't pull away; Merlin help her, she didn't_ want_ to. She was sucked down and under, like a drowned person giving their last gasping breath before succumbing to the overpowering undertow.

It was Malfoy who pulled away first. "We can't do this here," he said with a little grimace. Ginny licked her lips and nodded absently. She was still shaken and he looked so adorable mussed. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she could almost feel them again, his mouth slanting over hers, rough and gentle and warm all at once...

He groaned and kissed her quickly, then grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the Slytherin changing rooms.

"Where are we going?" She asked breathlessly, trailing a step behind him.

He looked back at her, one eyebrow arched sardonically. "We're going somewhere a little more private than the middle of the Quidditch pitch, if that's all right with you?"

She was a little put out about the fact that while _she_ was swept up into the moment, _he_ was perfectly able to keep his wits about him. "Maybe we should just leave it here, Malfoy?"

He gave a little shudder. "Princess, if you think I'm just going to let you walk away, knowing that you'll be thinking about me as much as I will about you, then you really are crazy."

She should have been upset about his presumption that she'd be thinking about him, but instead she felt a thrill shoot through her. "You'd be thinking about me?" He let out a grunt, which she assumed was an agreement. Ginny couldn't help but smile to herself, in a pleased, flattered sort of way. Her ego demanded that she kept fishing. "What would you be thinking?"

He entered the room, pulled her aside and at the same time twirled her so she was flush against the wall next to the door. "Come here," he whispered, his voice a husky tenor, "and I'll show you…"

How could she resist such temptation?

It was many minutes before she could think again. He'd pulled himself away from her, or perhaps she'd pushed him. Regardless, the end result was, he was leaning against a locker barely a metre away from her, breathing hard, and she was desperately trying to keep her knees from collapsing underneath her.

Her lips trembled as she sucked in a breath. He licked his lips and looked towards the ceiling, as if deep in prayer. "What is it about you?" he asked idly. "How is it that when I'm around you I can't keep my hands off you?" She bit her lip to keep from smiling. He sent her an annoyed glance. "It's not funny. It's like you're electric. A simple touch and I burn, and I have to have more."

"Somehow," she said with a trembling smile, "I can relate to that."

"I never thought I'd ever suggest this, ever," he muttered. "But perhaps we could...ban...snogging while we...get to know each other better?" She giggled. When he'd realised what he'd said, he went as white as a ghost. "Oh, Merlin, Weasley, you've turned me into a _woman_."

There was a genuine grin on her face, and she folded her arms over her chest, enjoying the sudden knock to his confidence. "Maybe I'm just helping you get in touch with your feminine side, Malfoy."

A suggestive leer came over his face, and his eyes looked her up and down, moving towards her deliberately. "Frankly, princess, I'd rather get in touch with _your_feminine side."

Laughing, she put her hands on his chest, pushing him, ineffectively, away. "This is getting ridiculous. We need to..." she dodged his lips so that he ended up kissing her cheek. He didn't seem to mind much, trailing little kisses along her cheekbone until he reached her ear. "...to concentrate on getting to know each other..."

"Yes," he whispered, and she shivered as she felt his hot breath on her ear. "I think it's _very_ important to get to know each other much better." He kissed just below her ear and she lost her train of thought for a second.

"That's not...not what I meant, and you know it. We have to..." _concentrate on not getting in too deep_. "Stop," she demanded, more forcefully that she thought was possible.

He pulled away from her, sighed and nodded. "I suppose you're right." He took her hand, led her over to a bench and sat down on a seat facing – but about a metre and a half away from – her. When she bit her lip at such distance between them, he looked at her as if to say, _Well? You wanted us to stop._

"So," she said hesitantly. "Um...when...were...you born?"

He snorted. "5th of June. And if this is the best you can do, perhaps we could get back to more important things."

She blushed. "Well, I don't know, I can't come up with conversation on demand, you know!"

He laughed softly to himself. "This is verging on the ridiculous, Weasley, and I have other things I ought to be doing."

She nodded resolutely. "I do too. And meeting with you, in secret, all this – it's ridiculous. We should just call it quits now. But, thanks for everything, Malfoy." She stood and started to walk out the door.

He caught her wrist with a growl. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm just not going to answer a damned survey to assuage your need to 'know' me. I'm not going to let you walk away from this yet. Meet me this weekend, we'll set an off-limits rule and we'll enjoy each other's company."

Ginny smiled and it lit up her whole face. "That sounds...nice." She said, nodding. "Well,...bye."

Again, he caught her wrist and turned her around. "Kiss me goodbye." She looked at him warily, not wanting to get held up again by a full on snogging session. He just grinned mischievously. Who would have thought that Malfoy could be mischievous? His hand was still around her wrist, and she had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't let her go until she complied.

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him softly. Not quite a peck, but certainly nothing a torrid as their previous exchanges; to her it seemed almost...sweet. She pulled away and smiled up at him. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

He just nodded.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hope you guys enjoyed it. I'd love any feedback or reviews you could give. Also, this chapter is available on my website, and it has images in some instances. In future, I'll also be updating it first. 


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